


Running Down To The Riptide

by naberiie



Series: Duty, Loyalty, Sisterhood: Royal Handmaidens of Naboo ⚜ [2]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Naboo Royal Handmaidens, Planet Naboo (Star Wars), pre-TPM, pre-sabédala, royal house of naboo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 14:53:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16746103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naberiie/pseuds/naberiie
Summary: Sabé Nyima was twelve, and her father was dead.The storm had come from nowhere, her mother had tried to say in between great, heaving sobs. “It came from nowhere and it took them.” In Sabé’s mind, the storm hadn’t come from nowhere. It had been born out in the great vast oceans of Naboo; her father had simply been unlucky.----How a storm drives Sabé into the Royal House of Naboo, and into the arms of the one who she will always love.





	Running Down To The Riptide

Sabé Nyima was twelve, and her father was dead.

The storm had come from nowhere, her mother had tried to say in between great, heaving sobs. “It came from nowhere and it took them.”

Sabé had watched it from her room the night it had struck, great thick waves the size of mountains rolling and crashing in between terrible flashes of lightning, in between claps of thunder so huge that it shook their little white-washed home on the top of the hill. Her mother had taken her siblings into the sitting room, and they’d watched the holonews together as it raged outside, late into the night, but Sabé had stayed up to watch it all. The next morning, before they’d realized who the seas had swallowed, she’d taken her younger brother walking along the shore for shells, the kind that only appeared after a big storm.

She’d found a bright pink one the size of her hand; the top was dull and sand-colored, unassuming and dirty looking. But when she flipped it over… pale cream slipped into bright beautiful pink, and it was smooth as silk.

In Sabé’s mind, the storm hadn’t come from _nowhere._ It had been born out in the great vast oceans of Naboo; her father had simply been unlucky.

She had not cried. She merely focused on her prize, running her fingers up and down the gritty surface of her shell. And then she looked up and around the room at her mother, her younger siblings. _Mama can’t support us all_ , she thought, clear as day. It would be hard for her mother to lose her eldest child so soon after losing her husband, but Sabé’s mind was set on this, what she knew to be the best path forward for her family.

As her family grieved, she slipped down the ancient whitewashed stone stairs that curved around and embraced her small ocean town, down the worn crags of sharp rock with centuries of salt stains, until she stood on the beach below the town. This beach was too small to host a port, protected with sandbars and a line of coral that broke the waves far away from the brilliant light sands. She dug her toes into the sand, let the salt water – strange to think this very ocean had been a raging nightmare not twenty hours before – lap around her ankles, feeling very much like the warriors of old Naboo being anointed by the goddesses of the sea and moon before battle.

She craned her face towards the brilliant golden sun, slung high over her town, and said her farewells in private, in silence, where there were none to hear as the first tears started to slip down her cheeks. She knew that easing her mother’s burden was the kinder path to follow, but something in her heart whispered that once she set foot on that path, there was no returning to her childhood home.

Her mother’s tears had dried when Sabé stepped back into the house. When she turned to gaze at her eldest child, Sabé shivered at the mournful acceptance lurking like smooth sea glass behind her mother’s kind eyes. She was holding the bright shell in her hands, and her mother smiled down at it, ran a rough hand over its ridges like Sabé had done. She must have found it while Sabé had been on the beach, far below.

In the bright sunlight streaming through the high windows, Sabé thought her mother a queen.

“Where will you go?”

“To the capital. To Theed,” came the steady answer.

The Naboo had always believed in the steadfast wisdom of their younglings, and Sabé’s mother was no different. She merely nodded, ran her hand over the rough salt-encrusted back of the shell again. “This is far too big to carry with you, but I still want you to have something of us. Of your home. Theed is far inland, and though it has many water gardens, canals and river districts, it is still far from the ocean.”

Outside, the bright golden sun rippled on the endless dark blue that had encircled Sabé for her entire life.

_Will I ever see such a magnificent color again?_

Her mother showed her the ancient practice of scraping away the grit from the shell, slowly, gently, persistently running finer and finer grains against it until the roughness had been smoothed away and all that was left was the pale cream, the light pink as gentle and soft as a kiss. Together they worked at it – her mother’s hands and breaths moving methodically, until Sabé herself was lost in the meditations of the work. The sun was setting, casting brilliant fires on the skies and whitewashed buildings, before they were finished: two tiny shell coins, like the ancients had used, etched with her family name, a blessing of fortune and perseverance, of protection. Her mother carved a hole in the top of each and laced a delicate chain of finely woven thread through them all, tying it around Sabé’s neck. The coins rested on the base of her throat, cool despite the many hours of work, a gentle reminder of her home, her family, the ocean that had already taught her the joys and pains of life. Tempered both by the sea and her mother’s sure hands, Sabé reached up to gather strength from the coins, and her mother nodded, pride etched on that hard, stubborn face.

Her family accompanied her to the transport station, but no further.

She did not cast a glance back at her town as she settled in, and she did not glance back when the conductor called and the engines rumbled to life beneath her feet.

Sabé raised her hand and touched two fingers to the coins at the base of her throat, and only looked ahead.

* * *

 

Theed was surrounded by an ocean, too – but not one of water, rather one of tall, parched yellow and green grasses, surrounded by meadows and prairies before the dramatic climb to the top of the plateau. An ocean of air, still cupped under the startling blue bowl of the sky as it stretched towards the waterfall fields, the swamps in the distance. The great green domes of the city stood tall and proud atop white and pink marble buildings, burnt orange frescoes, climbing gardens, flocks of white birds that nestled among the towering walkways, the winding, curving streets that marked the ancient Human city with all the pride and dignity it deserved.

Sabé fell in love at once, and her eyes went straight to what she knew was the Palace. The King lived there, along with his retinue, the valets and nobles and artists and poets that made up the Playboy King’s splendid, decadent courts. She suspected there was a smaller court that helped people like her find employment – King Veruna likely had all the servants he needed, and she had no wish to spend her days pouring drinks while the nobility played cards.

No, she was certain she was destined for something greater.

The great atrium of the Palace was open to the public and cool despite the lingering heat of midday. Her soft shoes made no sound on the intricately designed marble floors as she gazed up at a painting of the first Queen, a portrait flanked by two imposing statues of Shiraya, the ancient moon goddess who still watched over the throne to this day. Sabé’s own goddess was that of the roaring ocean, but she still said a quick, quiet prayer.

She would find a place to sleep, a place to work.

“Hello!”

She blinked in surprise at the sudden call and turned to see a girl around her age, perhaps a year or so younger than her, beaming up at her. “Hi! I’m Rabé! What’s your name? Where are you parents?”

Sabé couldn’t help but smile, too, at the girl’s energy. Rabé wore a dark purple gown cut from the latest fashions, and Sabé felt a little out of place with her simple dress and shoes. “Hi. My name’s Sabé, and my parents aren’t here.”

Rabé made a little ‘o’ with her lips, “Not here?”

“No. My father… my parents are back home, in Einoloch.”

Rabé’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Einoloch! That’s on the ocean, right? It’s near the Tapalo estate, I believe?”

“Yes… but that’s farther inland. My town is right on the ocean.”

Rabé’s eyes widened. “Really? I bet it’s beautiful…”

Sabé’s heart swelled with pride, and her fingers found the shell coins of their own accord. “It is! I made these with my mother, before I left. They’re made from a shell I found on the beach.” As friendly as the girl was, Sabé didn’t feel much like revealing the circumstances that had led her to the shell, and then to Theed. Not yet.

Rabé’s little ‘o’ returned and she half-turned, calling over her shoulder, “Eirtaé! Come say hello – and look at this, her necklace is so pretty-”

Another girl emerged from behind one of the statues of Shiraya, regarding Sabé with cold, distrustful pale blue eyes. Her dress was incredibly well made, dark green silks trimmed with delicate gold. She swept up next to them and firmly – a little possessively – grabbed Rabé’s hand. “Hello.”

“Hi. My name is Sabé.”

“Eirtaé Veruna.”

The name caught in Sabé’s ears and she froze, stared at the blonde girl with icy blue eyes – and then a look in her eyes made her stop. It was almost like Eirtaé was braced for the inevitable question, the exclaimed wonder that the King must be her brother.

So she closed her mouth and nodded. “Nice to meet you, Eirtaé. I like your dresses, they’re really pretty.”

Eirtaé’s icy demeanor melted at once, and Rabé’s laugh was like sunshine. It echoed off of the ancient Queen’s portrait, the statues of Naboo’s patron goddess. “We were going to go prank my cousin! Want to join?”

Before Sabé could even process pranking someone in the courts, and with two noble girls she had just met, there was a sharp tap of hurrying footsteps on the corridor and Eirtaé sighed dramatically as a man in the dark red and bright blue uniform of the Naboo Guard hurried around the corner, eyes boring at the two girls in front of Sabé. Rabé shrank, but Sabé could tell that the man was only mildly annoyed – there was a light of bemusement in his kind, dark eyes.

“Planning to prank the valets, were you?”

“Of course not, Captain Panaka!” Rabé said smoothly, struggling to hide her giggles.

“We were just going to say hello, that’s all.”

“Oh?” And from behind his back, Captain Panaka produced a bag of what looked to be smoking cubes of ice. “With some dry ice?”

Eirtaé and Rabé’s protests were immediate, talking and explaining loudly over the other, until Panaka held up a hand. “King Veruna wanted you to be on your best behavior this week, remember, Eirtaé?”

She sniffed. “I _am_. I’ve had _plenty_ of opportunities to ‘visit’ the valets, and I’ve held off.”

Panaka sighed, and only then seemed to notice Sabé standing there, tense and almost at attention. He blinked in surprise and then his face shifted into kindness. “Hello there. What’s your name?”

Sabé introduced herself, under the distinct impression that the Captain was measuring her up against some unknown test. He put his hands on his hips, and Sabé noticed the blaster hanging in a holster there. She wondered if he had to use it, or if the courts of the Playboy King meant that it was cold more often than not. “She looks like the Princess, doesn’t she?”

Rabé jumped up and down in place. “Yes! That’s who she reminded me of!”

“Almost identical,” Eirtaé said, her eyes widening in slight surprise as though she hadn’t considered this before they mentioned it.

Sabé, however, was at a loss. “The Princess…?” She glanced at Eirtaé – as sister to the king, wouldn’t _she_ be the Princess…?

Rabé tugged on Panaka’s sleeve with all the familiarity of bothering an older sibling. “I think they should meet! She still needs a few more…”

“I agree, Rabé. Good idea. Sabé,” Panaka asked kindly, gesturing behind him to the corridor that led deeper into the Palace, “would you like to meet King Veruna and the Princess of Theed?”

Uncertainty wavered through her for just a moment until Eirtaé whispered, “Ars isn’t really that scary, trust me. He’ll probably be more scared of you than anything.”

“Eirtaé,” Panaka sighed, exasperated, but when she smiled mischievously at Sabé she couldn’t help but laugh and nod.

As he turned and led the way, Rabé and Eirtaé fell into place on either side of her. Sabé couldn’t help but wonder if she was scary enough to scare a king, and Rabé laughed when Eirtaé nodded seriously. “He’ll be simultaneously impressed and terrified of you.”

The Throne Room was bathed in bright afternoon sunlight, casting the wide orange throne and the stiff council chairs in gold. Two valets in dark red robes and hoods sat in the high-back chairs along the edge of the inner circle, and Sabé’s first glimpse of King Ari Veruna, the Playboy King of Naboo, was a man bent over a holoprojection of vast reports, an intense look of concentration on his delicate, handsome face. Even under the traditional makeup, Sabé could tell he was stunningly beautiful. He was conversing quietly with a man in the dark robes of a governor and wild, bushy white hair. At the sound of Panaka and the three young girls stepping into the room, however, the governor bowed to the King, to someone sitting next to him that Sabé could not see, and left quietly.

King Veruna shut off the projection and opened his arms wide at the sight of the newcomers. “Ah, Captain! Girls – and a newcomer! Hello, hello. What’s the news?”

“Eirtaé and Rabé were planning on pranking the valets with some dry ice,” Panaka answered dryly. “But I’ve confiscated their supplies.”

One of the valets coughed, though it sounded rather like a laugh, and even the King’s eyes sparkled in amusement. “Aha. Thank you for keeping me abreast of the current threats, Captain.”

“Of course, your Highness.”

Sabé, however, had just noticed the person next to King Veruna.

Besides his throne, watching with quiet, guarded eyes, sat a girl Sabé’s age with tumbling dark curls and white polish on her nails. She inclined her head as Captain Panaka came to a halt in front of the monarch, bowed low. King Veruna sat forward, staring at Sabé with growing delight, his eyes flicking to his sister on Panaka’s other side. He smiled kindly at her and Sabé smiled back, unafraid.

“Your Highnesses, this is Sabé Nyima. She comes from the seaside town of Einoloch, and she seeks employment here in Theed.”

“Hullo, Sabé. Welcome to Theed, and to the Palace.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she dipped a slightly clumsy curtsy. She could feel the other girls – nobility by birth, she was certain – looking at her as she rose, and was quite proud when she did not stumble. The girl in the seat besides the throne did not say anything, and once again Sabé wondered who she was. She did not share King Veruna’s brilliant golden curls or his light, quick-rising smile.

“I believe we have found the Princess’s decoy, you Highness,” Panaka said. “Quite possibly the Captain of the Prime Guard, if she does as well in training as I suspect she might.”

At this, the brunt of the strange, quiet girl’s gaze turned full force on Sabé, but it was King Veruna who spoke, “The resemblance is well and truly uncanny, Captain. I think your instincts are correct. Sabé,” he said, gently, with another kind smile, “you have heard of the handmaidens and valets?”

“Yes, your Highness.”

“And of the Royal House of Naboo?”

“Yes.” At a gesture, she realized he wanted to hear her explain it to him, so she cleared her throat and noticed how her own voice reverberated against the stately columns of marble, “They are groups of highly trained warriors, bodyguards, for the monarch of Naboo. They become the monarch’s confidants, their advisors, as well as preparing them for the day with the crowns and jewels. They are the monarch’s closest friends, and will lay down their lives for their monarch, without question. It is one of the highest honors for any Nabooian to serve as a handmaiden.”

With a sudden rush of pride and wonderment in her veins, Sabé realized she was being tested for that very honor.

And suddenly she realized she wanted nothing more than to become a royal handmaiden to the next monarch.

_To think I would have settled for anything less!_

King Veruna let the words fade into an echo before beaming and relaxing back into the throne. He certainly didn’t sit like a King, but Sabé liked him, and that warm feeling only grew at his next words, “A bright child! I think you are entirely correct, Captain – there’s something hard and stalwart in her, isn’t there?” King Veruna turned to the girl sitting calmly besides him and with a flurry of hand signals, communicated something to her, for she slowly, gracefully stood and walked forward.

“Greetings, Sabé Nyima. My name is Padmé Amidala, Princess of Theed and next in line for the monarchy. Would you join my retinue as a royal handmaiden, swear fealty to me, swear to protect me when I take the throne?”

Sabé could not speak for a moment. The girl – the Princess, _her princess –_ wore a dress of deep, startling blue, embroidered with silver like the foam of the fiercest ocean riptide. “I would be honored.”

The corners of Padmé’s lips twitched up in pleasure, and Sabé’s heart thudded in her chest with her own joy, mirroring that of Padmé’s so much that she almost did not hear Rabé and Eirtaé exclaiming in delight, she did not hear King Veruna laugh in delight and Captain Panaka’s measured response.

Padmé stepped forward and took Sabé’s hands in her own – her hands were cool and soft to the touch – and one hand floated to the shell coins on her neck. “Welcome home to Theed, Sabé. We are bound to each other now, forever and always.”

Nothing would have made Sabé happier.


End file.
